//------------------------------// // Upon the Wings // Story: The Equestrian Omni-Knight // by Azure5555 //------------------------------// We hadn't flown far, about "Three kilometers closer to Ponyville" not far. Once landed, we moved to sit under a large tree as I pulled out a chunk of bear meat. "Want some?" I asked. I didn't need an answer as I bore witness to an ungodly roar, emanating from a surprised and blushing Cyrus. I toss him the chunk which landed skewered upon his katana. "Thank you, I've been flying undercover for days!" Said Cyrus with a chuckle. "My sister doesn't know I'm here and I'd rather it stay that way." "Uh...Cyrus. I need to know. How? Why!? Not about you being here, but Ak-" His eyes told me what no word ever could. "I'll have to start from the beginning. My new beginning." -Lord Cyrus- It had been apparent that I was a very lame hatchling. The Wyrm in charge of being my "mother" told me that for the first five years of my life I was a mute. I had no intelligent thought nor any exemplary will to do...anything really. That was until "I" came into consciousness. The day of my rebirth terrified the elders along with my father as it saw me reading and learning, and training. Young "Cinder" as they called me went from an empty shell to an almost adult dragon in seconds. And yet... "Little Cinder, would you not rather play with the other younglings?" Said my "Nanny" as she closed and retrieved a military strategy tome from my claws. "My name is Cyrus, and it would benefit me more to learn as much as I can so that I may lead the younglings of the future." I said as I pulled another tome of Dragonic History. "Oh little Cinder! You're father will be so proud, but please it won't do for a growing dragon to be kept in a musty cave for too long." I resigned myself to fate as the dragoness took me by wrapping a claw around my stomach. It's not that I didn't like reliving my youth, I enjoyed myself as much as I could, but I was treated like a child. Not surprising all things considered, but it was rather frustrating as none of my thoughts or opinions were ever taken into account. My ire came to a head when I found myself in a military meeting. A "decorated" general had a brilliant plan that would take the lives of several troops and cost the kingdom several outposts. I pointed out the holes and offered a counter that would minimize loss to a few wounded and would see us gain a rather large boon in our endeavor. I was promptly lead from the room by an uncle and told "Children should know their place." "What happened?" I asked. "The troops lost," Began Cyrus. "Miserably. Three returned with their lives. One of them died at my father's feet. It was at this moment that I dedicated my new life to becoming a king that would see to the end of such pointless pride and hubris. It took me ten years to finally be worthy of the title of Prince, and with it came my name. My true name." "And...the general?" Cyrus could do nothing to hide his smile. Wither Bone had been a thorn in our military which I sought to remove forcibly if need be. As such, upon receiving my title, I felt it necessary to challenge him to a war game. He couldn't accept fast enough. "The winner," I began. "Gains total control of my father's military, and the ancient treasure." "And the loser?" Asked General Wither with a wicked smile. "Stripped of title and rank, banished from these lands forever." "Child! I am five times your elder. Destroying you will prove to be no challenge." The terms were agreed upon, and the parameters had been set. My forces were divided in three: Strike-One consisted of guerilla junglers who stalked the forests. Strike-Two consisted of mages and dragoons who kept to the skies, and Strike-Three kept point along with me. Wither's forces were as such, grunts and foot soldiers had been stationed along the mountainside while Wither and his forces waited submerged along the coast. Wither's troops were outfitted with rather outdated and clunky armor made from volcanic metals interwoven with ancient dragon scale. My forces had more...modern armor. Even as I am now, the abilities of the Dracomancer order had not been lost. No, in fact it had appeared my powers had only grown with my new body. Recreating Dracomancer armor would not be difficult, but I needed metal... "So...what you do for metal?" I ask rather frightened. Lord Cyrus chuckled and revealed an incredibly frightening blade. The blade sprung to life, triggered. "Holy!? You keep that thing as far away from me as possible!!" "Don't worry! I wouldn't actually use this against you. Several tomes lead me to a field of feral Bronze Dragons and the last known location of Dreadmaw the Defiler...A story for another day... My forces had thus been outfitted with Neo-Dragonslayer/Dracomancer plate mail and weaponry. Despite my foe's many years of military service, he was nowhere near ready to fight against guerilla warfare. I even gave Wither a copy of my battle plan to tilt things farther in his favor. Though it quickly became apparent he did not care for the information given. My forces had cleared the mountains with ease leaving the approaching nautical assault but Wither did have one good secret up his sleeve. "My lord, a word?" An ash gray dragon asked. "Speak Flint." "Cragadiles have been spotted along the shores and a third of S-One has fallen." "I see," I motioned to a bone white dragoness with a creamy underbelly. "Tooth, alert Nail. Use of Dragonblades has now been authorized. Afterwards, fire a blue flare." "Yes my lord!" Stated Tooth as she flew out. Flint then came up to me and voiced his concern. "You are authorizing the use of Scale Rot? My lord I must object!" "Would you rather I authorize the free summon of Sora?" This did the trick as Flint cowered a little. "N-no sir. I shall rejoin the battle at once" "Yokay. Yeah. No. Woah..." I interrupted Cyrus for what was the third time me-thinks. "You can summon..the great dragon Sora?" "Really now it wasn't hard to contact him," Stated Cyrus. "Once I attuned myself spiritually to Dragonsbane ore he came to me," Cyrus had somehow pulled a cup of tea from nowhere and began to nonchalantly enjoy his brew. "Rather nice fellow once you get to know him." Once Dragonblades had been brought into the picture, more than half of Wither's remaining forces had run with their tails between their legs, and once the flare was cast, a hail of scale rot had dealt with our cragadile infestation. Wither, being the brash and arrogant military leader he was lead a final charge against me. The poor fool didn't know what hit him. It took five of my thirty troops to whittle away at his ten. Some defeats had been comical, others had been pitiful, but where any normal dragon would believe the fight to have just begun, Wither's remaining forces had been quick to surrender. Only Wither had stood in defiance of his loss. He reushed me, sword swinging wildly, half of his armor falling off of his chest. He kicked and screamed, yelling randomized expletives, calling me a half-breed and castrating himself at how a child could best him. I wanted to do something to help him, but men of hs character were beyond help. All I could do was side-step him and crack the pommel of my blade against the back of his head. "So...what happened?" I ask Cyrus. "Exactly what I said would happen. He was stripped of his title, his rank, and he had lost the respect of his peers and king. Not for losing to a child, but for his lack of dignity in his defeat. He tried one last attack against me, but he was quickly subdued by two of my dragoons. With spears at his neck he gave me one last look, a wild fury in his eyes. and he said to me: "Know this halfing, I shall hang your hide as a trophy someday!" Cyrus gave a heavy sigh, finished his tea, and proceeded to clean his katana. I didn't know what to say, this entire thing was something else. "Now that leads us to Akriloth," Said Cyrus, breaking me from my trance. "As Wither was a dragon literally after my own heart I thought it prudent to keep a spy on his trail. Imagine my surprise when the last message I recieved from my spy was that not only was Wtiher working with Akriloth to conquer the kingdoms, Wither had found my spy and had him slain. This in turn leads me here. It has come to my attention that a Dracolich had terrorized the town of Ponyville not so long ago, I believe that Akriloth is looking for an artifact of some sort that would ai him. You wouldn't happen to have any information on this would you?" "No, sorry." I calmly state. 'I'm starting to think that chest is mighty important now and hey wait a minute.' A thought flew by my brain. "Cyrus, you're dragon royalty, right?" A nod. "Then would it be safe to assume you have access to a sword treasured by the dragon kingdom, a claymore with a black dragon insignia on it's hilt?" Cyrus' face was filled with shock, then a cold glare. "How is it you know of it?" "I'm the...I'm the "Demon" it was taken from." "I...see. Tell me, how does it work?" "You know, that's a good question. If I could maybe have it back i could show you?" Cyrus gave a harsh chuckle. "The blade curently belongs to my sister, Ember. One would have to challenge her for it, and only if they are of dragonic descent. And though I mean no disrespect, you look nothing like a dragon to me." 'Pfft, watch this.' I took a quick secon and went full Dracopyre. "How's thi-" I couldn't even as Cyrus had rushed me with death in his eyes. My only thought: 'Oh find me in the alps.'